


The Moon that Breaks the Night for Which I Have to Howl

by bouquetofwhoopsiedaisies



Series: Keith and the Blade of Marmora [3]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Aftercare, Biting, Bondage, Breathplay, But not bloodplay, Chasing, Consensual Kink, I dare you to look me in the eyes and tell me none of the BoM has a knifeplay kink, Knifeplay, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Predator/Prey, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Shibari, Wrestling, Xeno, Xenobiology, frankly I'm surprised there isn't more knifeplay in Keith fics tbh, guys that's really not where knives go..., nobody gets hurt, now with a part 2, one tiny allusion to it tho, the thulaz is only in the beginning but they are very cute dang it, they're into it tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-11
Updated: 2018-03-11
Packaged: 2019-02-13 12:03:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12983673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bouquetofwhoopsiedaisies/pseuds/bouquetofwhoopsiedaisies
Summary: With a low growl, Antok hauled Keith up to his feet, arms still pinned behind his back.  “I told you if I caught you, I was going to fuck you against the nearest surface,” he nipped at the sensitive skin below his earlobe.  “And I aim to do just that...”(As he promised before, Antok chases Keith around the base.  A spin-off of the Bonds of Marmora)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to another edition of “no, wait… THIS is the kinkiest thing I’ve ever written to date… no I swear this is gonna be it, nothing is gonna top this one… oh wait.” Tune in next time to see how much lower I’ve sunk.
> 
> Somewhat a sequel to Bonds of Marmora, or at least based on something that was alluded to in Antok’s chapter of it, but you probably don’t have to read it to enjoy this one. More details of the particulars of the Galra/half-Galra xenobiology are discussed there tho (basically all Galra have both “male” and “female” genitalia just in case they need one or the other, and Galra dicks are sheathed when they’re not being used). And the people liked thulaz and I aim to please the people so have some minor thulaz at the beginning. (I’m not a scientist… I did my best)
> 
> IMPORTANT: as mentioned in the tags and a few times in the fic itself, everything they do is 100% CONSENSUAL, even if at times it doesn't seem to be, on the surface

“Would you hand me one unit of nano-thermite titanium-boron?”  Thace asked, holding his gloved hand out while his gaze remained fixed on the chemical solution bubbling in front of him.  The Blade of Marmora base’s laboratory was small, and much of the equipment was a bit outdated, but it was important to their operations and they couldn’t let an erroneous explosion damage any of their limited equipment.    

Ulaz, wearing protective gloves, picked up a small sample from the case and handed it to Thace.  Thace reached for the stabilizer mixture with his other hand.  He dropped the nano-thermite titanium-boron pellet in the solution in front of him, then, just as it began to bubble and expand, energy crackling within the foam, he poured in the stabilizer.  Nothing happened for a moment, then the mixture began to neutralize and the bubbles fizzled away, leaving behind a clear liquid that looked like water.  

“The test is a success.”  Thace nodded to himself in satisfaction.  “Good, we’ll be able to use this to neutralize enemy bombs.”  

“Of course, we’ll have to test it on a larger scale before it can be cleared for field use.”  Ulaz mused, jotting that down in their notes.  “I believe we can use the Xarcugonian asteroid belt in the uninhabited quadrant of the Jarzuqia system--”

His words were cut off by the lab door slamming open suddenly.  Both Galra turned around to find Keith slipping into the lab, shutting the door quickly behind him.  He was breathing heavily, as if he had been running, and he had a wild-eyed look about him.  Rather than his Blade suit or even his casualwear, he was barefoot and dressed only in his sleeping clothes.  The simple purple-gray t-shirt and shorts were both just a bit too big on him, since they were standard-issue Blade sleeping clothes meant for full-blooded Galra.  

“I’m not here.”  Keith told the two of them, then he opened one of the lower cabinets and wedged himself in next to a large, old microscope with a cracked lens that they really only kept around for parts.  

Thace and Ulaz stared at the cabinet door as Keith pulled it shut, then turned to look at each other.  

“Do you know what that was about?”  Thace asked, confused.  

Ulaz hummed thoughtfully.  “Didn’t he and Antok say they were going to play?  Is that correct, Keith-who-is-not-here?”  He asked the second part in a quiet undertone.  

There was silence for a moment, then a quiet “yes” came from the microscope cabinet.  

Thace nodded, understanding.  “Well, Antok has an impeccable sense of smell.”  He reached for another vial of chemicals, a slow grin spreading over his lips.  “Let’s put his nose to the test.”

A few drops from the vial into a beaker filled with another chemical, and the sulfuric smell of rotten eggs filled the air.  Ulaz wrinkled his nose in distaste, but he too was curious how this would play out.  The odorous cover came not a moment too soon, as the laboratory door opened again and Antok stalked in, looking around like a lion on the hunt.  

“Evening, Antok,” Ulaz said, idly flipping through some notes.  “Did you need something?”  

“I know he’s in here.”  Antok prowled around the table, sharp gaze scanning the room. 

“Who?”  Thace asked, holding the beaker up to eye level and swirling the solution inside.  The dreadful stench grew stronger, even as Antok walked right past the microscope cabinet.  

“Keith.”  Antok growled, tail twitching from side to side like an angry cat.  “I know he’s in here.  His scent stops at this room.”  

“Are you sure?  I haven’t seen him since dinner.”  Ulaz said, pretending to be immersed in his notes.  

Antok growled again.  He nudged Ulaz out of the way and yanked open the cabinet door he was standing in front of.  Empty beakers and a few bunsen burners, but no Keith.  He moved on to the next one.  A bucket and a mop, no Keith.    

As Thace watched Antok continue making his way down the line of cabinets, he knew it was only a matter of time before he found the smallest Blade.  Thinking quickly, he reached down and grabbed a handful of Ulaz’s ass, squeezing him roughly.  His mate was so startled that he jumped and his knee knocked against the leg of the metal table with a loud bang.  As if that wasn’t enough, the scale perched on the edge of the table was dislodged by the movement and went falling to the ground with an almighty crash that had Antok’s head whipping around, eyes locking on the source of the noise.  

With his pursuer’s attention diverted, Keith burst out of his hiding space and sprinted out the still-open lab door, impressively light on his feet given his lack of shoes.  Antok spotted him a moment too late and let out a shout of “ _ hey! _ ” as he ran after him.  Thace snorted quietly and picked up the scale, returning it to the table top as the door swung shut behind them.  

“It has been a while since we have played in a chase like that.”  Ulaz said.  “Perhaps we should join them, next time.”

“I wonder how long they’ll be going for.”  Thace mused.  “Keith’s endurance versus Antok’s raw power… The chase alone would be quite something to see, not to mention the end result.”  

Ulaz hummed in agreement.  Thace turned on the ventilation system to clear the rotten-egg chemical stench out of the air, and set about disposing of the foul-smelling solution.  Hands wrapped around his waist as he scrubbed the beaker clean, a warm weight pressing against his back.    

Thace glanced at him over his shoulder.  “Really, Ulaz?  It smells like a weblum’s digestive tract in here.”  

“You grabbed me.”  Ulaz reminded him in a low voice.  He nuzzled the back of his mate’s neck and rolled his hips into Thace’s backside.  

Thace shook his head fondly.  “Put that nano-thermite titanium-boron away in the refrigeration case, and then we’ll go take a shower to clean off this stench, how about that?”

Ulaz let out a pleased rumble and nipped at the side of his throat before withdrawing to put the chemicals away.

~~~~~~~

Keith sprinted through the corridors of the Blade of Marmora’s base, skidding around another corner and leaping down a set of stairs in the hope of losing his pursuer.  They had been at this for hours, a game of cat and mouse that had more close calls than Keith could count.  Antok could outrun Keith easily, but Keith could outpace him, so he had to think quick and stay ahead of him.  He was small and lithe, where Antok was large and bulky, so he had periodically slipped into tiny hiding places just to give himself a chance to breathe and rest for a moment.  For a while, he had managed to lose him by going in the vents, as Antok was far too large to fit through the narrow space and couldn’t do much more than fume and try to anticipate where he would drop into.  The incident in the laboratory was too close of a call, though; Keith didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up.  

Skidding around another corner, he quickly ducked behind a large pillar and pressed himself against the wall.  He managed to get his breathing under control just as Antok went running past, continuing down the corridor.  Keith held his breath, hand pressed over his nose and mouth to muffle any sounds, and waited until he was sure Antok had left.  As he looked around, he realized they had ended up near the docking bay of the base, an area that was usually deserted unless someone was leaving for a mission or they were expecting an arrival.  Air-tight, locked cabinets held supplies for repairing ships and pods, with more tools fixed with heavy magnets above the work counters.  

He listened carefully, but couldn’t hear any more footsteps.  Taking a chance, he slipped out of his hiding place and ran back down the corridor the way he had come.  

“ _ Hey! _ ” The shout from behind him made his heart skip a beat as a thrill of terror shot through him.  He took off, sprinting as fast as he could, but the footfalls behind him grew louder and closer and it wasn’t long before something seized the back of his collar.  He choked as the neck of his t-shirt tightened across the front of his throat, jerking him to a stop.  Arms wrapped around him like steel bands, lifting him high off the ground and pinning his arms to his sides.  He kicked and felt his heel strike something thick and solid -- a thigh, probably, although even kicking him in the groin wouldn’t do much good if he was sheathed -- and Antok chuckled lowly in his ear.  “Just give up, already.  You’ve been caught.”  

Keith let out a growl and threw his head back, feeling it connect with something hard a moment before Antok let out a yelp and dropped him.  He rolled to avoid a bad landing, and was just scrambling to his feet when a hand grabbed him around the ankle and tugged him back.  Antok crawled up him, pinning him down with a heavy knee on his back and his hands pressing down on his wrists.  Keith struggled underneath him, but his grip was like iron and he weighed probably three times Keith’s own body weight.  There was no way he could escape, like this.  He was caught.

But like hell he was giving in easily.  

Antok yanked his arms behind his back and held them together with one massive hand, the other sliding down Keith’s side.  Keith jerked away from him.  His hands were hot, a sharp contrast against the freezing cold metal floor underneath him.  Teeth scraped over the shell of his ear, and he shivered in a way that had nothing to do with with temperature of the room.  

“Mm, you know what they say,” Antok let out a low rumble as his hand squeezed Keith’s ass roughly.  “The longer the chase, the better the reward.  And I fully plan to enjoy my reward, now.”  

“Get off me,” Keith grunted.  Antok chuckled and, surprisingly, the weight on Keith’s back disappeared.  He blinked, taken aback, and Antok used his moment of confusion to shove his legs apart.  

“Oh?”  Antok purred, cupping between his legs even as Keith cried out in protest and thrashed.  “Look at how wet you are… you like this, don’t you?”

“No!”  Keith shouted, squeezing his eyes shut as heat rushed to his groin.  

“Don’t lie.  You’ve been wet since you started running.”  Antok groped him, claws pressing dangerously.  “I know, because your scent was so thick and easy to track.  You  _ wanted  _ to get caught.  You want this.”  

Fuck, yes, he did.  But not this fast.  He was high on adrenaline and the thrill of being chased, and he wanted to draw it out just a little longer.  Antok rucked his shirt up, exposing his stomach to the frigid metal floor.  Keith gasped at the sensation and recoiled in earnest.  His nipples hardened, the thin barrier of the t-shirt hardly offering any protection.  “N-not here, too cold…”

Antok paused behind him, considering.  It wasn’t the safeword, but he could tell that it was an honest request.  With a low growl, he hauled Keith up to his feet, arms still pinned behind his back.  “I told you if I caught you, I was going to fuck you against the nearest surface,” he nipped at the sensitive skin below his earlobe.  “And I aim to do just that.”  He looked around them, and Keith used his moment of distraction to twist his way free.  He hadn’t gotten more than a couple of steps, though, before a strong hand gripped around his bicep, yanking him to a halt.  “Oh no you don’t…” Antok shoved him to his knees, pushed his face to the floor, and wrenched his arms back and up, effectively pinning him unless he wanted to dislocate his shoulder.  

Keith strained against his grip, relishing in the ache in his shoulders.  Antok reached into one of the packs on his utility belt with his free hand and brought out a short length of rope.  He bound his hands behind his back quickly and expertly, wrapping the length of rope around his pressed-together forearms.  Keith fought him the whole time, struggling enough to be satisfying without hurting himself.  

Using his grip on his bound arms, Antok hauled him up to his feet again and dragged him over to a nearby pillar.  He spun him around and shoved him back against it, bending down to swallow the gasp as Keith’s breath was knocked out of his chest.  The kiss was all flashing teeth and sloppy tongues, leaving Keith feeling breathless and dizzy.  Antok kept him pinned with a hand on his chest, his claws three sharp points poking through the thin fabric of his t-shirt.  His other hand, which had been gripping his hip, left for a moment, but Keith was too busy trying to roll his hips into Antok’s thigh and kiss the living daylights out of him to notice it.  He did, however, notice the soft  _ shiing  _ of metal gliding over metal.  If the sound alone didn’t make his breath hitch, the cold press of luxite to his cheek certainly did.  

“I think you’d better start behaving.”  Antok told him, voice low and edged with danger.  “You wouldn’t want my hand to slip…” He let the edge of the blade slide down his cheek, scraping against his skin.  Keith swallowed, his gaze riveted on it.  Antok guided the blade around the curve of his jaw, twisting it to let the blunter side trail down the line of his throat teasingly.  It was still enough to make Keith’s breath hitch and his eyes flutter closed.  Antok let out a pleased-sounding rumble at the reaction.  “You look so good in red, you know.”  He drawled, running the sharp edge of the blade run lightly over the jut of his collarbone, the pressure just shy of being enough to cut his skin.  “I’m tempted to find out what you look like with it flowing down your skin.”  He bent down and ran his tongue along the line his knife had just traced, hot and wet after the coldness of the blade.   

Keith moaned and tilted his head back, baring more of his neck to Antok.  The larger Galra’s tongue traced over the pink, ropy flesh of the scar that slashed across his right shoulder, an injury he had sustained during his Trials.  Keith’s breath hitched, heartbeat quickening.  Antok hummed and let his teeth scrape over the sensitive flesh, drawing another moan out of Keith.  Chuckling quietly to himself, Antok pulled back, looking over his flushed and panting partner with a greedy glint in his eye.  He lifted the blade again, trailing it over the V-shaped dip between his collarbones.

“Stay still,” Antok warned him, running the tip of the blade down the center of his chest.  Keith held his breath, watching raptly as the razor-sharp edge sliced through his t-shirt.  His skin glowed a faint shade of lavender lit only by the illuminated marks on the blade and the dim lights along the walls.  A couple more cuts at the sleeves, and the shirt fell away completely.  A quick tug on his shorts had them falling to the ground as well, and Keith was completely bare, trapped between a wide pillar and Antok’s still-fully-suited body.  Antok knocked Keith’s feet a little further apart, spreading his legs a bit more.  “Stay very still.”  He repeated, just before he pressed the flat of the blade right to Keith’s sex.

Keith threw his head back with a loud shout, and he damn near came from that alone.  The cold of the luxite against him and the sheer danger of it being there sent his head spinning and left him feeling dizzy.  Antok grinned sharply at him, licking his lips.  “You like that?”  He asked slyly, already knowing the answer.  Keith bobbed his head, chest heaving as he tried to get his breathing under control and fought the urge to grind against it.  Antok moved his wrist minisculely, rubbing the blade against him, and Keith was helpless to stop the moan it dragged from him.  Antok changed his angle slightly, intentionally rubbing the cold flat of the blade right over his mound teasingly, and Keith had to fight to keep his cock from unsheathing; he really did not want to accidentally lose it.

Antok carefully pulled the knife back and looked down at it, clicking his tongue.  “Look at the mess you’ve made.”  He held the flat of the blade just inches away from Keith’s face, and Keith was confronted with the heavy scent of his own slick.  “Clean it up.”  Antok commanded.  

Keith lapped at the slick on the cold luxite.  Although he was careful not to cut himself on the edges, he couldn’t resist getting dangerously close.  It helped that Antok’s blade was fairly wide, as it gave him more space to work with.  He flicked his eyes up to meet Antok’s as dragged his tongue along one of the purple glowing stripes, shooting him a coy smile.  

Antok twisted the knife and pressed the sharp edge where his throat met the underside of his jaw, making his pulse thrum under the metal.  “You’re enjoying that a little too much, you little knife slut.”  He growled lowly.

Keith grinned at him, feral and bold.  “What are you going to do about it?”

A rush of air hissed out of Antok’s nose in a hint of a laugh.  He took the knife away, spinning the large, bulky length between his fingers as if it were closer to the size of a pencil than a short-sword, and slid it back into its sheath with a quiet  _ shiick _ .  Keith was disappointed for a moment before Antok grasped the sheathed blade in his hand and pressed the tip of the hilt between his legs, his other hand coming up to tangle in Keith’s hair and tug his head back.  “You’re going to take the entire hilt inside you, but you’re not allowed to come on it.”  He told him, voice a low, dangerous rumble.  “If you can’t do that…” his grip on Keith’s hair tightened, pinpricks of barely-pain lighting a fire in him that ran from his scalp all the way to his toes.  “...then I’ll bury the other end in you instead.”

That  _ really  _ should not have turned Keith on as much as it did.  It was probably an empty threat -- he knew Antok would never truly hurt him -- but the thought alone was enough to make his heart race, adrenaline singing in his veins.       

He groaned, pressing back against the pillar and spreading his legs a little wider on his own.  Antok released his hair to rake his nails lightly down Keith’s chest before slipping hand between his thighs, spreading his folds and dipping a finger inside him to make sure he was slick enough ( _ that _ was certainly not a problem, as Keith was so turned on he could practically feel himself buzzing with electricity).  

The hilt of Antok’s blade was short compared to the length, but it was thick and bulky, with a sharp curve at the end like a hockey stick.  Holding the sheathed blade at an angle, Antok slowly guided it inside Keith, whose breath caught in his throat.  Once the two glowing purple stripes on the end were inside him, Antok straightened his arm.  Keith cried out as the curved end pressed against his inner walls.  His thighs were shaking, in danger of giving out from under him as Antok coaxed more into him in a single, slow slide.  The curved tip of the hilt rubbed right over his G-spot, the luxite hard and unforgiving as he clenched around it with a shout.  

“Remember, no coming.”  Antok hissed in his ear, free hand sharply pinching a nipple.  Keith groaned, twisting his head to the side and clenching his bound hands behind him.  These Blades had a real problem with orgasm denial, he thought.  

It wasn’t really a problem, though.  

The hilt widened as it neared the actual blade, the stretch of it making Keith’s eyes roll back in his head with a moan.  Antok paused to let him adjust to the fullness for a moment, then he pulled the hilt about halfway out before pressing it back in.  Even with how slow it was, Keith felt like his breath had been punched out of his lungs.  The curve of the tip was  _ just right _ , perfectly hitting his G-spot and drawing a strangled cry from the back of his throat.  “Antok…!”  He gasped.  “Fuck… I’m gonna come, I’m gonna…”

“Don’t.”  Antok’s free hand closed around his throat, squeezing just slightly.  If that was supposed to be a deterrent, all it did was turn him on even more.  Keith forced himself to focus on the pressure around his throat and  _ not  _ of the slow drag of luxite against his walls, and he managed to back himself away from the edge.  His chest was heaving like he had just run a mile, and every nerve felt hypersensitive.  He wanted to come so badly, he could feel it like a physical ache churning in his gut.  But somehow, he managed to do what he was told.

“Good boy,” Antok purred, petting through his hair.  Keith groaned as he drew the hilt of the blade out.  Antok set the blade on a nearby work counter, the hilt shiny with slick.  

Antok turned back to Keith, crowding him up against the pillar.  “You don’t want me to fuck you.”  He growled, breath hot in his ear.  

The words made Keith pause.  He did…?  Oh, right.  They were playing a game.  Space-cat and mouse.  Hunter and hunted.  Predator and prey.  He tore his eyes away, glaring off to the side.  “I don’t.”  He spat acidly.  He squirmed like he was trying to get away, both to really sell it and just so he could feel Antok’s claws press dangerously into his skin.  It was a weirdly thrilling experience, like riding a roller coaster or watching a horror movie.  And maybe he liked it a little because it just felt good, to put up a fight and pretend like he didn’t want this.  

“That’s too bad,” Antok grinned, looking feral.  “Because I’m going to take whatever I want from you, whether you like it or not.”  

Before Keith could come up with a response to that (besides a flare of arousal blooming hot in his belly), Antok spun him around and bent him over the work counter.  Keith groaned as a large, heavy hand pinned him down by the neck, pressing him against the countertop.  His other hand disappeared behind Keith, but from the slick sounds and occasional brush of knuckles against his ass, he guessed he was unsheathing his cock.  “I’m going to split your cunt open with my cock.  Break you, make you scream… maybe even make you cry.”  

Keith let out a grunt and struggled against him, loving how futile it was.  Antok chuckled, and let go of him just long enough to lift Keith’s legs and hook them around his waist.  Keith considered dropping them, but Antok reached for his sheathed sword and pressed the flat of it to his belly.  “Keep your legs there, or I’ll gut you like a fish.”  The sheath surrounding the knife tapered at the edges, but it was nowhere near as sharp as the blade itself.  The threat was enough to get Keith’s blood singing, though, and he nodded with a low growl, as if begrudgingly.  Antok resumed his position of pinning Keith down by the back of his neck while he half-supported, half-threatened his stomach with the knife as he lined himself up.  The spade-shaped tip easily parted him open, and his body eagerly swallowed the raised ridge just under the head of his cock.  The rest of his length was a thick corkscrew that rubbed against his insides and felt like he was drilling in and out of him as Antok started to thrust.  Keith cried out; with this angle and the curve of Antok’s cock, every thrust hit straight on some spot inside him that had him seeing stars.  The force of his hips was rocking him back and forth, letting the tapered, blunted edge of the sheath press tantalizingly against his belly with every movement.  

“You just keep getting wetter…” Antok marveled, thrusting in deep enough to punch a groan out of Keith.  “You couldn’t wait for me to mate you, huh?  Wanted me to bang you against this counter while you’re pinned down, taking whatever I give you?”

Fuck, yes.  Keith threw him a dirty glare over his shoulder.  “Fuck you.”  He spat venomously.    

“No, I’m fucking  _ you _ .”  Antok pressed down harder on the back of his neck, the pressure making him gasp.  He pounded into Keith with the pace of a jackhammer, unrelenting and harsh.  

A well-placed deep thrust timed with the sheathed blade digging into his belly and the dizzying pressure around his throat had Keith coming hard with a wordless, choked shout, clenching tight around the length inside him.  Antok shifted his grip to more of his shoulder and the base of his neck than his throat, but other than that, he didn’t let up, continuing to pound into Keith’s overstimulated sex until there were tears in his eyes and pleas falling from his lips.  “Antok… please… please, I c-can’t… ah!”  He jerked as the larger Blade buried himself in deep, heat shooting through his belly.  Teeth clamped around his shoulder, holding him in place like an animal pinning its prey.  Keith whimpered, his eyes fluttering shut.  

Antok let out a rumble -- Keith wasn’t sure if it was a pleased sound or a growl… maybe both -- and licked at the bite mark.  The quiet sound of metal sliding over metal cut through the silence, followed by a tug behind him and a slice, and a moment later the ropes fell away from his arms.  Antok slid the blade back into the sheath and set it off to the side, then his hands were immediately on Keith, rubbing the soreness out of his arms and back muscles.  Keith sighed, content to just lay there with his cheek pressed to the cool countertop while Antok massaged feeling back into his arms.  After checking him over for any injuries, Antok unhooked Keith’s legs from around his waist, but Keith was barely on his feet before he was being scooped up into Antok’s arms.  The larger Blade sat himself cross-legged on the ground, leaning back against the pillar, and settled his charge in his lap, careful not to let any part of him come into contact with the cold floor.  

Keith could already feel himself drifting off -- that was the hardest a single person had ever fucked him -- as Antok nuzzled him with his flat, almost reptilian nose.  “Ready for round two?”

A quick hush of breath left his nose, a snort of amusement.  “Refractory period, remember?  I need some time before I can go again.”

Antok let out a huff.  “Ah, yes, you and your silly, odd little human quirk.  I suppose I’ll indulge you.”  

“Hey, you  _ like  _ cuddling, you big baby.”  Keith teased, smiling against his chest.  It was common knowledge among the Blades that Antok often crawled into the other members’ beds because he liked to hold someone while he slept.  He especially worried about Keith, who was so small and had no fur to protect him from the chilly air on the base.

Antok hummed contently and traced the tip of his claw along Keith’s arm.  “I was very tempted to make you come on the hilt of my knife, you know.  But I knew I couldn’t let you finish before I got inside you.”

“There’s always next time.”  Keith remembered the cold, dangerous press of the blade against his skin, and the thrill of the hilt being pushed into him at a slow, unrelenting pace, the way it had rubbed all the right places inside him.  He shivered; that was definitely something he would want to try again.

Antok purred in agreement.  He turned Keith’s arms over, first the left and then the right, looking for any serious bruises or signs of rope burn.  Finding none, he tilted Keith’s chin this way and that, peering carefully at his throat.  “Were you injured at all?”

“Maybe some light bruises, nothing serious.”  Keith said, stretching his arms languidly above his head.  “Nothing I didn’t sign up for.”  He felt sore, but in the same way he felt after a good workout.  Satisfied.

“Good.”  Antok nipped lightly at his ear.  “Now, what do you say you go put your suit on, I’ll start hiding, and  _ you  _ can hunt  _ me  _ down?”  

Keith flashed a grin up at him, teeth glinting in the dim light.  “You’re on.”  He shifted, rising up onto his knees so he could press a teasing kiss to Antok’s mouth.  “You better start running.” He told him lowly, the words ghosting over his lips.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keith ends up catching him in the kitchen, while Kolivan happens to be sneaking a midnight snack. “...Really? Right in front of my space-salad??” (If there’s enough interest, I maaay write that one, actually. Without the memes though)
> 
> Bonus, later when they’re bragging about it in the dining hall...  
> Antok: “yeah and then I put my knife between his legs and--”  
> Thace, head whipping around at the speed of sound: “you did WHAT”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part 2: AKA, the smol fucks the tol, and they end up in a bit of a sticky situation. (remember, kids, always eat your veggies before you eat out your bro)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I actually started this part 2 waaaay back before I decided to write a one-shot for every one of the canon BoM/Keith (yeah, it took me _that long_ ) I never actually planned to write more than the first one, but I just had to contribute to the small amount of BoM/Keith fics and here we are. So this is the only exception to the one-shot rule, no one else gets a part 2 (that's just more porn than I can write, lmao). And I feel like it turned out to be not as kinky as the first part, but then again I am personally partial to anything with knives so it could just be that ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
>  
> 
> ~~this spawned from a fucking meme what is my life~~

In the end, it turned out to be less of a chase and more of a steady stalk.  Antok’s biggest advantage was the time Keith used to change back into his Marmora suit (he was going to need to sneak another pajama t-shirt out of the supply closet… still worth it), and the fact that Keith wasn’t able to smell scents as well as a full-blooded Galra could.  If Antok thought Keith’s human senses would prevent him from tracking him, though, then he wasn’t very familiar with humans. Admittedly, tracking him down through the labyrinth of tunnels and corridors that made up the Blade of Marmora’s base was a bit difficult and took some time, but once he spotted him, it took only a few hours to catch him.  Antok would sprint inhumanly fast for a short burst, but Keith would follow at a quick, even pace, and eventually catch up with him just as he was pausing to rest. It was a slow process, but never giving him a chance to rest paid off, as Antok grew tired quickly. 

Keith finally caught him when Antok tried to stop for a drink of water in the kitchen.  The poor Blade was bent over with his hands on his knees in the center of the kitchen, panting so loudly that Keith could hear him even from where he was hiding around the door.  

“So… close…” Antok muttered to himself, looking up at the sink across the room like he was trying to will it closer with his mind.  

Keith slipped into the kitchen behind him and tapped the sensor on the pad next to the door.  It shut with a quiet hiss and a metallic thunk. Antok’s head whipped around to face him, eyes wide.  Keith just smirked and walked closer, pulling his knife out with a flourish. “There are two kinds of predators on Earth.  Pursuit predation and persistence hunting.” He pushed Antok onto his back and placed a foot on his chest, leaning down to smirk at him.  “Guess which method was used to claw our way to the top of the food chain?” 

“You’re a monster.”  Antok told him breathlessly, half in awe.  

“I’m a human.”  Keith corrected.  

Antok huffed out a weak laugh.  “Alright, fine, you win. The weak-nosed human caught the fleet-footed Galra.  Now what are you going to do with me?”

“First, make sure you don’t go anywhere.”  Keith hauled him up into a sitting position and manhandled his arms behind his back.  He held his wrists together with one hand and brought a long length of rope out of one of the packs on his utility belt with the other.  As he tied Antok’s arms behind him, he could feel his pulse still jumping frantically under his skin from the chase. “Second,” he tightened the knot into place -- leaving behind a long tail of rope unused for now -- and stood up.  “Make sure you don’t die on me.” He patted his cheek condescendingly before heading over to the sink. 

Just as he was retrieving a cup from the cabinet above the sink, he heard a shuffling sound behind him.  Keith whipped around, throwing his knife expertly. It flew across the room and embedded itself in the crack of the door, streaking past Antok who was halfway up to his feet.  “Nice try.” Keith reached into another one of the packs on his belt and took out three sharp stiletto knives from the training hall, waving them in a warning. Antok let out a growl and dropped to sit cross-legged on the ground, his glare ruined by the sulky pout on his lips.  

Keith flipped one of the knives idly in his hand while filled the cup at the sink.  When he switched off the tap and turned around, he found Antok squirming in place and trying to look over his shoulder to see the knot tying his wrists together.  “I’ve got big plans for that rope. If you break it, you’re not going to like what I’ll do to you.” Keith warned, going down on one knee in front of him. 

Antok growled, but settled down.  He couldn’t help the glint of curiosity in his eyes at Keith’s words, clearly only playing along to find out what these ‘big plans’ were.

Keith shifted his grip on the knife so he could run his fingers through the strip of jet-black hair along the crest of Antok’s head.  “Good. You’re starting to behave.” He held the cup of water -- it was really more of a tankard, due to it being Galra-sized -- up under Antok’s nose.  “Now drink up. I don’t want your mouth all dry when you eat me out.” 

“Who says I’m going to eat you out?”  Antok sneered. His breath hitched as Keith’s fingers tightened in his hair, forcing his head back.  

“I do.”  Keith told him, voice low.  “And I caught you, so I make the rules.”

Antok growled, but stopped fighting him.  The harsh grip on his hair softened into Keith cradling the back of his head while he tipped the water to his lips, letting Antok drink.  His gaze slipped down to watch the way Antok’s throat moved as he swallowed the gulps of water, looking forward to having that around his cock.  

When Antok finished drinking, Keith set the cup down and slid it across the floor in the direction of the sink to be picked up later.  It tipped over and rolled noisily until it hit the wall, but at least it was out of the way. 

“More.”  Antok told him.  

“No.”  Keith replied, just as short.  

Antok growled.  “You chased me all over the base for vargas.  I’m thirsty.” 

“I bet you are.”  Keith snorted in amusement as he got to his feet.  He reached down and slid open the hidden zipper of the suit between his legs.  “No more water, but if you’re still thirsty, there’s something else you can have.”  A tug on the back of Antok’s hair brought him closer, and Keith felt a huff of laughter before a wet, pointed tongue lapped over his sex.  Keith sighed, humming appreciatively at finally getting the stimulation he had been craving since they started their chase. Antok pushed his face further between Keith’s legs, tongue diving deep inside him.  As amazing as that felt, though, it wasn’t what Keith had in mind, so he only let him do it for a couple of minutes before pulling him back by the hair. “You’re supposed to be getting my cock out. If you can’t even do that, then you don’t deserve anything else.”  He told him, tugging on his hair. 

Antok let out a low rumble and latched onto his mound, sucking on it hard enough to draw a groan out of Keith.  “Mm, good boy.” Keith scratched him behind the ears as a joke, but when Antok started to hum with a happy purr building in his throat, it felt like being eaten out by a vibrator.  He rolled his hips into his lips and kept scratching just underneath his large, fluffy ears to keep him purring. The larger half-Galra’s sharp teeth kept pressing tantalizing pinpricks of danger against his sex and inner thighs, never enough to cut but always with the potential to snap closed with twice the force of a wolf.  Antok swirled his tongue around Keith’s cock as it continued to slide out of its sheath, licking up all the slick that flowed out of the tip like it was water and he was dying in the desert. Or, like he had just been chased around until he was breathless and thirsty. 

Something soft -- Antok’s tail -- curled loosely around Keith’s right ankle and calf, stroking the skin with a feather-light touch.  Antok took his whole cock deep into his throat, his long tongue stretching out to slip between Keith’s folds. Keith gasped as Antok swallowed around him.  Every lick and suck caused the pleasure to build and pulled groans and little whines from his throat. He used his grip on the back of Antok’s hair to pull him closer, nearly riding his face as he felt himself getting swept away in the sensations…

Suddenly the tail wrapped around Keith’s ankle tightened its grip and pulled hard on him to yank his leg out from under him.  Keith lost his balance and fell onto his back with a surprised yelp. Antok climbed on top of him, caging him in with his thighs and leaning over him to grin sharply in smug satisfaction.  “You let your guard down. Some persistence predator you are.” 

Keith growled and hooked his leg around Antok’s hip, rolling them over forcefully.  “You’re asking for it, now…” He hauled the other Blade up by his shoulders and moved around to the back of Antok’s kneeling form.  Skimming his fingertips along the smooth deep indigo of Antok’s shoulders, Keith picked up the long tail of the rope. He had selected this rope specifically with this in mind; it was strong silk, and the thickness was closer to what might be used to tie a mid-sized boat to a mooring than it was regular bondage rope, as he planned on using it on bigger Blades.  The red rope looked stunning over Antok’s dark, scale-like hide as Keith expertly twisted and tugged the rope into a complicated chest harness that would keep Antok’s arms pinned down to his sides and immobilized behind his back. 

Antok watched his every movement, fascinated.  “I never considered tying more than the arms behind the back.  Is this some form of art, on your planet?” He asked. 

“You could say that.”  Keith replied, tightening a friction into place with a sharp movement.  Antok’s breath hitched as he did so. “Not an art form for polite conversations, though.”  He added, slipping the end of the rope under the back column again.

“I have little interest in polite conversation.”  Antok pointed out. “Hurry up, I want to mate.” 

“Patience.”  Keith cracked a wry smile behind him, where Antok couldn’t see.   _ Patience yields focus… and it’s sometimes more fun. _

Antok growled and shifted impatiently, testing his bonds.  Keith watched him, his grin growing sly when it became apparent Antok could do little more than wiggle in place and tap his fingertips against his forearms, he was bound up so tight.  Keith traced a hand over the knots and crisscrossing ropes until he reached the base of his tail. It flicked back and forth, reminding Keith of the little stray cat that often found its way into his shack in the desert back on Earth.  He would wake up every so often with the scrappy little nicked-ear cat curled up on his chest or sitting on the kitchen counter like it owned the place, stealing coveted water from the sink. How the cat got so far out into the desert and where it went when it wasn’t sneaking into his shack, he never knew, but it had a habit of thumping its tail against Keith whenever he tried to pet it, and arching its spine in a stretch when he scratched down the length of its back.  

Curious, Keith picked up the end of Antok’s tail and let the tip slide through his fingers.  Antok flicked the tail out of his grasp. When Keith reached for it again, Antok grumbled and curled the tail around himself, tapping the tip against his own knee.  Just like a cat. Keith pretended to check over his knots and shifted the ropes to shake off Antok’s attention for a bit. Then he reached down and scratched just above the base of Antok’s tail.  

The effect was immediate.  Antok’s breath hitched and he arched his back, pushing his hips back into Keith’s hand with a groan.  Keith’s grin widened when he heard a low purr build up in Antok’s chest. He even pressed his ear to the center of his back while he scratched above his tail, just to hear the purr vibrate through him.  “You’re adorable.” He told him. If the Blades could say it to him, he could say it to them. 

Antok growled, the low sound mixing with the purr.  “I am fearsome.” 

“Of course.”  Keith agreed, only half-joking.  Antok might look tough and imposing on the outside, and he was in most circumstances, but Keith and the rest of the Blades knew that he could also be a big softie.  “Like a lion.” Big ferocious killer kitties with soft manes, giant deadly paws, and crushing fang-tipped mandibles of death. An apt comparison to Galra that were part of the Blade.  

“Hm, I suppose it’s a compliment to be compared to the mechanical creatures that make up Voltron.”  Antok shifted on his knees. His tail flicked back and curled around Keith’s waist as if to keep him there where he could keep scratching him.  

“I was thinking of an actual lion, from Earth.”  Keith said, sliding his palm along Antok’s hip and down to his inner thigh.  

“Are they as fierce and powerful as the Voltron ones?”  Antok asked as he spread his knees a little farther apart to let Keith dip his fingers inside his slit.  

“Nothing on Earth is,” Keith chuckled.  “But they’re right up there with humans as apex predators.  And speaking of predators…” he thrust two fingers into him, deep.  “You’re getting a little too comfortable for someone who let himself get caught.”

“I did not  _ let  _ you catch--  _ ah _ !”  Antok gasped as Keith added another finger, rolling his hips down onto Keith’s fingers.  “A-anyway, what am I supposed to do tied up like this? Untie me, and I’ll service you.” 

“No.”  Keith drew his fingers out and pointedly ignored the low groan it earned him in response.  Slick dripped from his fingers and he wiped them off on Antok’s thigh before sitting back against the wall.  “You’ve got legs. Use them.” He told him, stroking his cock until it stood upright. 

Antok grumbled and shuffled closer on his knees until he was over Keith’s lap.  Keith placed a hand on his hip and lined himself up with the other, guiding Antok down onto his cock.  He bit back a groan; even as big as he was, Antok was  _ tight _ .  His insides were hot and somewhat soft, but also had distinct, firmer ridges lining his walls that rubbed Keith’s cock in all the right ways as he slid inside.  Keith gave him a few moments to adjust, instead running his palms over the bulging muscles of his thighs appreciatively. Reaching around to his back, he scratched above his tail and found that doing so made him tighten around his cock.  Chuckling, he brought his hands back around to the front and tapped the tops of Antok’s thighs. “Well? Start riding.” 

Oh, feeling those muscles ripple under his palms as Antok lifted himself up was enough to make Keith’s knees weak.  Of course, that could have also been all the firm ridges that lined Antok’s inner walls, rubbing over Keith’s cock as he dragged himself nearly all the way out before dropping down on him and plunging him into the tight heat once more.  Antok huffed and his torso made a little twisting jerk as he clenched his hands behind his back, clearly not used to not being able to use them. Keith slid his hands around his hips to steady him as he started riding, but didn’t do much more to help him out.  Antok got caught, so he had to do all the work. That was how their game worked.  __

The kitchen door beeped, drawing their attention.  A loud clatter rang through the kitchen as Keith’s knife -- having been still stuck in the crack between the doors -- fell to the ground.  Antok paused and the two of them looked over at the door, where Kolivan was standing peering down at Keith’s knife on the floor. The Blade leader lifted his gaze to the two of them, arching an eyebrow in silent judgement.  “...We  _ eat  _ here, you know.”  He said, plucking the knife up.  

“I just ate Keith, that counts.”  Antok quipped, raising himself up again before dropping down onto Keith’s cock.  

Kolivan snorted quietly.  He lightly tapped the flat of the blade against the top of Keith’s head. “This is a ceremonial blade, you know, not some cheap Unilu trick knife.  Have some respect for it.” 

“Then you  _ really  _ don’t want to know what I did with mine.”  Antok grinned wolfishly up at him while Keith took the knife Kolivan proffered.  

“Unspeakable things, I’d imagine.”  Kolivan said dryly. “Just don’t get slick on any food preparation surfaces.  And you’re both on cleaning duty tonight.” 

“So you’re not here to tell us to stop fucking in the kitchen?”  Keith asked, curling his hands around Antok’s hips to help lift him.  

“I’m here for food, that is all.”  Kolivan crossed the kitchen to the refrigerator.  “What you get up to and where is your own business.”  

“You’re not going to join us?”  Antok paused in his riding to half-turn and look at him over his shoulder.

“Hey,” Keith tapped the flat of his blade against Antok’s thigh.  “Who said you could stop?”

Antok grumbled and brought himself up again.  “Leader, come put Keith in his place.” 

“Do it yourself.”  Kolivan told him as he reached for a bowl.  “You are at least twice his size.” 

“He tied me up!”

“Again, you are twice his size.”  Kolivan opened the refrigerator and helped himself to some hearty potato-like tubers and a large handful of the rich purple and teal leaves that the Blades grew on the base for food (downside to being spies working on a top secret base hidden amongst deadly celestial objects and fighting against the largest military power in the universe, they couldn’t just pop into a space-supermarket every week for their groceries).  He set the tubers on a cutting board and began chopping them, pointedly ignoring the two fucking behind him. 

Antok turned back to Keith with a feral grin, and Keith barely had a moment to think about it before the larger Blade was hooking his leg around Keith’s waist and throwing him to the side so that he fell flat on his back.  Antok pinned him down by shoving his shoulder into Keith’s and relying on his weight to keep him down without his arms. He rolled his hips into Keith’s, pushing his thighs apart and rutting against his sex. It took Keith a moment to realize he was trying to use the friction to unsheath his own cock and line it up.  “Hey!” He smacked at his chest. “You had your turn!”

“You have to  _ earn  _ the right to fuck!”  Antok told him, trying to shove his half-unsheathed cock into Keith.  

Keith growled and pushed against his shoulder with all his might, forcing him back enough to wiggle out and flip them over.  Antok kept the momentum going and ended up on top again. Keith brought his leg up and planted his foot over the center of Antok’s broad chest, straightening his leg to push him back, then seized him by the chest harness he had tied and turned him around to get behind him before putting the larger Blade in a headlock.  During their scuffle, they had migrated to the center of the kitchen, near the island counter where Blades on kitchen rotation prepared food for the mess hall, or where people sometimes ate between meals. 

Antok let out a choked growl and tried to shake Keith off of him.  A quiet clunk came from the direction of the sink as Kolivan set the cutting board and knife in the metal sink basin.

“Just give up already.”  Keith grunted. He had leverage on Antok in this position, but now he couldn’t fuck him.  Antok’s body was just too long compared to Keith’s. He would need to get him to cooperate for this to work.  

“I never give up.”  Antok hissed. 

Kolivan snorted in amusement as he picked up his bowl and a glass bottle of flavored oil that Keith usually called ‘space-salad dressing’ (it had some longer, Galran name, but Keith had a hard time wrapping his mouth around the consonants and everyone always told him he was mispronouncing it as a rude word for one’s backside, so… space-salad dressing it was).  The Blade leader walked around the two of them on his way to the stools on the other side of the island counter. He paused beside Keith, who was trying to maintain his chokehold on Antok without actually choking him, and reached down to cup the side of Keith’s throat, stroking along the junction of his neck and shoulder for a few moments before moving on. 

Keith blinked, confused by the action.  It felt almost like he was praising him, or when he sometimes rubbed his thumb over the mating mark they all bore on their shoulder or neck…  _ Oh! _

Keith released Antok just long enough to duck down and clamp his teeth around the meat of his shoulder where it met his neck.  Antok, who had moved just as quickly as Keith upon being freed, immediately went limp in his arms with a low groan. Keith grinned and dug his teeth into the thick hide, tongue poking out to lick over the other scars left by sharper teeth before him (Kolivan, most likely, and probably a few of the others).  A strange sound made its way out of Antok’s throat; as much of a pitched whine as was capable with his deep baritone voice. Keith dragged his tongue along the slight indents in Antok’s thick skin left by his teeth before closing his lips around the spot and sucking on it hard. He wondered if it was possible to leave a hickey on his scale-like hide.          

“And that is why we never leave our necks exposed in a fight.”  Kolivan said, drizzling some of the flavored oil over his food. He set the bottle down beside his plate and looked down at them, close enough that Keith could probably reach up and touch him if he wasn’t so preoccupied with the five hundred pound whimpering, horny mess he suddenly had in his lap.  A mess that  _ might  _ be a little more than he could hold, actually... 

Keith grunted, muscles shuddering with effort as Antok relaxed more of his weight back on him with a low groan.  His spine gave out and he fell onto his back, Antok falling on top of him. Antok let out a displeased whine and ground his ass back against Keith, almost painfully heavy.  “Why did you stop?”

“You’re crushing me, you lug.”  Keith gasped. 

Antok rolled over onto his -- and Keith’s -- front and nuzzled against his throat.  “Come on, I was nearly there…” He hitched up Keith’s leg with his own and let it curl around the back of his hips while he buried his face in the side of his neck.

“From  _ just  _ a neck bite?”  Keith paused in his attempts to wiggle out from under him to stare at him in astonishment.  

“ _ Mating  _ bite.”  Antok corrected, rolling his hips into Keith’s.  “Hey, untie me and let me fuck you.” 

“You’re not getting untied until  _ I  _ get to fuck  _ you _ !”  Keith reminded him.  

“You’re taking too long!”  Antok protested. 

“You keep fighting me!”

“It’s fun!”

“Fun or not, it’s still your fault!”  Keith poked him in the chest. Antok growled and tried to pin him down again, but Keith rolled them to get on top once more.  He didn’t look at his surroundings, though, and he went smacking into something hard and solid; the island counter. A moment later, there was a glass-like  _ thunk _ above them and the bottle of flavored space-salad dressing struck Keith on top of his head, bounced off Antok’s chest, and rolled away, leaving a trail of oil in its wake and all over the two of them.  

For a moment, no one moved.  Keith and Antok stared at each other, then slowly looked up at Kolivan, who had paused with a forkful of purple and teal leaves halfway to his mouth.  The kitchen was silent, save for the quiet drip of oil falling from Keith’s hair onto Antok’s chest and the floor. 

Kolivan arched an eyebrow at the two of them.  “Well? Go on.” 

Before Keith could come up with a response to that, Antok flipped them again.  Keith stuck his hand out to catch himself, but his hand slipped on the slick oil covering the floor.  Antok managed to get him pinned down by the shoulder as he had before -- “damn these ropes, what are they made of?” -- but Keith used the slippery floor to slide out from underneath him enough to get his teeth onto Antok’s mating mark, his hand reaching back to scratch just above his tail and reduce the larger half-Galra to a purring, moaning mess.  Laying on top of him, Keith kissed him hard and dragged his fingers down his chest and side, leaving streaks of oil over his skin and the ropes binding him. He pushed open Antok’s thighs with his knee -- totally not slipping and nearly face-planting on him -- and slid two fingers inside his slit. 

“Mm, go ahead,” Antok panted against his lips as he started scissoring.  “Still stretched from before.” 

Keith broke the kiss to line himself up and slide in, groaning at the tight heat surrounding him and the drag of Antok’s ridged walls.  He started thrusting, but soon slipped on the oil spreading even further over the floor and fell out. Antok laughed and curled a thick leg around his waist as he slid back in, as if to hold him in place.  Forget thighs that could crush a watermelon; Antok could probably easily snap Keith in half in this position, and that image alone was enough to get his heart racing and warmth blooming in his gut. Sliding back into the tight, ridged heat, Keith gripped his hips and thrust deep into him, setting a quick pace.  

The scrape of the metal legs of a stool being pushed back broke through the haze of building pleasure, and they looked up to see Kolivan standing up with his empty bowl.  He walked around them -- Keith never slowing his pace -- and stroked a hand over Keith’s hair as he passed them on his way to the sink, as if to praise him. 

“Ready to turn your dinner-and-a-show interactive?”  Keith asked, shooting their leader a sly look. 

Kolivan snorted quietly in amusement as he placed the bowl in the sink.  “Your performance was adequate.” 

“I’d say it was more than adequate.”  Keith replied, gaze dropping to his waist.  The ceremonial tunic he wore indicating his status as Leader -- a tribal-looking wrap with a long, partial skirt below his belt -- could only do so much to hide the sizeable bulge at the front of his suit and the slick-wet patch at the apex of his legs.  Keith was pretty sure he couldn’t get to that state unless he had been touching himself under the table while he had pretended to ignore them. 

Antok threw his head back with a groan at a particularly deep thrust.  “Join us, Kolivan…” 

Kolivan unbuckled his blade from his belt and set it on the counter, then sank to his knees above Antok’s head.  He traced over the red rope criss-crossing over Antok’s chest almost reverently. “This is an intriguing practice.  You will have to teach it to me.” 

“With pleasure.”  Keith replied, grinding his hips in tiny circles against Antok’s G-spot and making him cry out.

Kolivan tipped Antok’s chin up to look at him, thumb rubbing through a smear of oil on his cheek.  “You’re making quite a bit of trouble for Keith. Couldn’t you just let him win?”

“No way.”  Antok groaned at a particularly harsh thrust.  “He’s got what it takes, I know.”

Keith flashed him a grin, pleased.  The last thing he wanted was for any of the Blades to go easy on him just because he was smaller than them.  Both in training instances and more private instances like this. 

“Still, you are being unusually unruly.”  Kolivan reached down and slid open the hidden zipper of his suit.  “Perhaps you need some other task to occupy yourself with.” Antok tried to squirm closer, but Kolivan kept him pinned with a hand on his chest while he knelt over his face.  

Keith’s hips stuttered at the sight of Antok’s long, purple tongue slinking out to dive into Kolivan’s slit.

“Keep going, cub.”  Kolivan told him, voice edged with a hint of a growl.  “Or you may lose your dominant role.” 

Heat sparked between his hips at the words and Keith picked up the pace.  As he thrusted harder and faster, he could see Antok’s movements getting more and more sloppy, sometimes groaning or having to pause and pant heavily against the leader above him.  Antok’s whole face was shiny with slick, spit, and sweet-tart oil from the space-salad dressing mishap. Kolivan sighed, rolling his hips into his second-in-command’s wicked tongue as he let a hand drift down to unsheath his cocks.  Keith watched them emerge, still stunned by the size of them, long and thick and leaking precome out of the spade-shaped tips. Kolivan noticed his enraptured gaze and a slow smile spread over his lips, only a little twisted from the scar running over the corner of his mouth.  “Think you can handle more on your plate?” He asked, free hand carding through Keith’s hair and letting his claws scratch tantalizingly light over his scalp. 

Keith nodded and leaned down, nearly chest-to-chest as he continued to thrust into Antok.  Planting his hands on the ground on either side of Antok’s bound arms, he licked a long line up the length of each cock before taking the head of one into his mouth.  Claws threaded themselves into his hair, and he relaxed his jaw to let Kolivan roll his hips into his mouth. The other cock bumped against his cheek and chin as Kolivan rocked between Keith’s mouth and Antok’s, dripping slippery blue-violet precome across his skin.    

“Faster…” Kolivan commanded breathlessly.  “Make him come.”

Keith hummed -- smirking at the groan above him and the hand tightening in his hair -- and snapped his hips forward hard enough to rock Antok’s body.  Antok let out a moan in response that Keith could feel vibrating through his chest, and he had no doubt Kolivan could feel it too. The pleasure built between them like a wave about to crest, then Antok came with a low groan and the pressure tightening around Keith’s cock wrenched his own orgasm from him with a cry.  Kolivan gripped the back of his hair and thrust a few more times into his mouth before coming as well, half of it shooting down Keith’s throat and the other half smearing across his chin and throat. Keith whimpered around the thick cock still buried to the hilt in his mouth, his vision starting to go deliciously fuzzy around the edges, then Kolivan gently tugged him back by the grip he had on his hair.  

Keith slid out of Antok and fell on top of his chest, exhausted.  Antok kept licking at Kolivan’s sex even as his cocks drew back into their sheath.  Kolivan hummed in approval, reaching down to lightly run his nails down the sides of Antok’s throat to make him purr.  

Keith tried to reach underneath Antok’s back, but he was too heavy to get more than his fingers under his shoulders.  “I need you to sit up for me to untie you.” He told him. 

Kolivan rose up on his knees and shuffled back, and Antok lifted himself up with a grunt in what was almost a sit-up.  Keith quickly tugged the knots apart and unwound the rope from around his arms and chest. 

“I quite liked that.”  Antok let out a pleased rumble as he stretched.  “You did very well, little blade.” 

“Indeed.”  Kolivan nodded, zipping his suit up again.  He sighed and looked around, especially at the empty glass bottle lying in a puddle of space-salad-dressing oil.  “It seems I will be joining you for cleaning duty after all.”

Antok and Keith grinned sharply at each other in victory.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (AFTER)  
> Keith: "So was pretending to ignore us and eating your snack just a powerplay thing?"  
> Kolivan, who actually just forgot to eat all day because he was so busy: "......Yes."
> 
> Thank you for reading... whatever this is *gestures wildly* It was interesting to write, at least. ~~sorry if it seemed long and rambling... these two would not just stay still and get to the fucking point~~


End file.
